My Atonement
by vampslayertiff
Summary: He watched helplessly as his Kadan gave herself up to the ultimate sacrifice. He mourned her death, feeling utterly lost. But, what happens when he sees a fair blonde elf resembling Freya upon his return to Ferelden almost a year later? SPOILERS/AU
1. Chapter 1

_Authors Notes: I have recently developed quite a fondness for Sten. I wish he had been a romanceable character in Dragon Age. And because of this, I decided to pair him with a dalish elf, one of my favorite origins. After all, Sten deserves lovin' too! This story will contain slight SPOILERS to the ending of the game. So, I suggest if you haven't finished the game yet not read any further. _

_I know I might have taken a few liberties with Sten's character, but I believe he has remained mostly intact. It suits the purpose of this slightly AU story, so please bare with me. I welcome your reviews/comments/criticisms (as long as they are not flames). As always, I do not own DA. I also take no claim over the elven words in this story, as they belong to Tolkien. _

Chapter 1: Decisions

The decision had been made. Freya Mahariel would land the final blow upon the Archdemon, forever sealing her fate and causing her untimely death. Alistair had tried his best to argue with her about it. As had Riordan. But, her mind could not be swayed. The young elf had offered and there was nothing that could sway her mind from this decision. Even when Morrigan had offered her a chance at life, she had refused it. It was her duty to die and that was exactly what she would do. Who was she to try and weasel her way out of her fate? Luck had saved her life countless times while on her journey. But, her luck would soon run out and she would rather take the matter into her own hands than simply wonder how long it would be before she was vanquished by an enemy.

As the blonde haired maiden sat on the edge of her bed in a bitterly cold guestroom on the upper floor of Redcliffe castle, she felt no remorse over her impending departure from life. She felt...peace. After the constant enduring struggle of her life, it would be easy to drift off into a peaceful afterlife. It would be welcoming. Anything would be more welcoming than the cold, harsh, and unfeeling world she had stumbled into. Freya's life had been one full of many tragedies and heartbreaks, such as it had been for many of elven kind, those that lived out their lives in the alienage and those like Freya, who grew up in the care of her clan without real knowledge of her parents until shortly before she left. Her whole life had been a lie. She only sought the sweet relief to end it all.

She did not hear him approach the door; nor did she feel his weight crashing down on the bed beside her. She had become...numb to everything around her. If it had not been for his deep voice, Freya would not have even known he was there. "Kadan, what is troubling you?" Her teal colored eyes moved to look at him, the sight of the tall Qunari pulling at her heartstrings and causing an almost insufferable pain. She had hoped that he would not come to her. She had hoped he would stay downstairs with the other members of their rag-tag band of brothers and sisters. But, a part of her knew that he would seek her out and join her after the meeting. They had been almost inseparable as of late. They had become...friends.

And that was one of the many reasons why she had decided to slay the dragon herself. For Freya could only admit it in her heart that she wanted more from him than a simple friendship. She wanted him to care for her as she cared for him. She wanted to belong to him. She wanted to know what his mouth would taste like once meshed with hers. She wanted to know what his body would feel like if it was intertwined with hers. She knew it might be impossible to wish for such a thing, but it was a feeling nonetheless; a feeling that haunted her in her dreams and as she lay awake at night. How could Sten, a warrior of the Beresaad, feel anything for a lowly elf who had spent most of her life feeling quite inferior to the rest of the world?

Her eyes searched his face for several moments, trying to find a small hint of emotion. And as always, she did not see anything. That was the worst part of her feelings for Sten. His face forever remained emotionless. He was cold. Freya had tried hard to play the strong and fierce woman she knew herself to be. Living in the wild with her clan had forced her to learn from an early age that in order to survive, she must never show her emotions. She had occasionally slipped, like the day that Tamlen disappeared from the forest and the day she laid dying in the tent, only healed by ancient Elvhenan magic. Other than the rare moment when she lost her control, she was almost as cold as Sten was. Respectful when the situation called for it, but mostly cold.

It was not how she really felt. She had just learned to keep a shell around her heart from a young age. She also knew how easily she could be exploited if she allowed her true feelings to show like Alistair or Leliana. The only emotion she allowed herself to freely express in the company of others was anger. It made them fear her, and respect her all at the same time. And in a world where elves were deemed lesser than humans, it was a powerful feeling to know that some feared her. It was almost once that she reveled off of - just like the feel after a good hunt.

At this moment, however, she had never felt more vulnerable. She knew her emotions were showing more freely than they ever had in his prescience. And the fact that he remained cold tore her heart into pieces. How could he remain unmoved when she was obviously distressed? Did he feel nothing for her? That must have been the reason. And as that thought passed through her slowly, she felt the sudden urge to strike at him. And if she felt she could get away with it, she might have even found one of her daggers and stabbed him repeatedly with it.

How could he not feel what she felt? How could he sit there and act as though there was nothing between them? The passing glances made at camp; the quiet conversations in the twilight; the look he gave her when she returned his precious Asala to him. She had always felt something behind those beautiful violet eyes. And yet, he remained distant. She wanted to reach out to him, to keep him safe, to shower him with affection and longing. And yet he remained untouchable. And she felt that he would always remain that way - at least when it came to her.

She moved from the bed, her body slowly walking towards the gigantic fireplace to her right. It was comforting to stand next to the warmth of it, and she didn't waver. She watched the flames dance before her eyes, that feeling of numbness still creeping across her body. She could not find her voice. But, as the flames blazed, she knew that this would be her only chance. If she was ever going to tell Sten how she felt for him, than tonight was going to have to be the night. It no longer matter what his response would be. She did not fear the rejection. She just knew that she could not meet with the Archdemon without expressing the passion she felt for him.

"Kadan?" His voice rang in her ears as she turned back to face him, a small forced smirk forming over her full pink lips. Sten studied her appearance for a moment, even more convinced that something was troubling her severely. Her long, blonde hair was pulled loose from it's fancy elven design, and was now falling to her shoulders. It was the first time he had ever seen her in such a manner, and he could admit to himself that having her hair loose was quite becoming on her. Her normally bright eyes seemed dull in comparison to the fire behind her. Her whole appearance put off an aura of despair that he had never seen in her. And that was quite unnerving.

He noticed for the first time that she was not wearing her leather armor he had become accustomed to. She was wearing a powder blue dress, one that must have belonged to Isolde at one point in time. It was quite similar to the one that he had always seen the Orlesian woman wearing upon his first meeting of her. To see the elf dressed in such a manner was also unnerving. It became more apparent than ever that she was indeed feminine. He had often teased her about that not being possible. Women did not fight. That was simply not the way, he had said. But he was forced to study her every curve in this rather tight-fitting ensemble, and he found he could not look away from her; no matter how much he wished he could.

A small tear traced it's way down her tanned skin slowly, dropping to the floor after it passed her cheek. Sten did not know what to think. He tried to keep the building urge to reach out for her in check. Ever since the frail-looking elf had entered into his life, he had been battling himself and his emotions every single minute he spent around her. The sheer fact that he felt an attraction for her dumbfounded him to no end. She was no Qunari. She was small, and very breakable. But, that fact only encouraged the strange protectiveness in his mind.

But, even more than the fact that she was a Bas and Elven, it worried him that he indeed found her quite beautiful. Especially with the firelight casting a glow upon her hair and eyes. If it was not for her disheveled appearance, he might have been tempted to enjoy the view before him. She remained quiet, and he waited to see if she would answer him. After a long uncomfortable silence, her eyes raised from the floor she had been focusing on him. "Do you know why the Wardens are the only ones who can vanquish the Archdemon?"

He shook his head in the negative. He had wondered that question countless times, especially in the very beginnings of their journey. He had to imagine that it had something to do with the taint that he had been told ran through her blood. It had not been something that was spread around in the legends of the Wardens and their mighty griffons. It would have painted the heroes in a quite different light. Many would believe that they were no different than the Darkspawn. Many would fear them, instead of the respect that they deserved. And more importantly, the respect that _she_ deserved. She looked hesitant to continue the conversation, but he could not blame her. From her facial expressions, it was not something pleasant.

"Well...I have learned the reason. Riordan...explained it to Alistair and I." He nodded, learning why the elder Warden had wanted to speak to her. He had not been in the meeting with Alistair and the others while they discussed what to do. He had stayed out in the hall with his other companions, who had all been more than eager to try and listen in. Sten had stood quietly by the wall, with Dante the Mabari close to his side. He had tried to appear uninterested, and had even scolded Leliana and Morrigan for trying to listen in. But, he had seen Riordan stalk off to his room and Alistair and Freya following shortly behind. He had figured it had to be some kind of important business. And apparently it was not good news.

Freya took a small step towards him, her eyes glancing down nervously at the floor before she spoke. "You know that the Wardens have the Darkspawn Taint running through their veins, yes?" She looked to him for an answer and he nodded. "Well...that is the reason why we are the only ones who can defeat them. The taint runs through our bodies, and ties us to the monsters. And because of this...only a Grey Warden may land the killing blow upon an Archdemon. "

It did not make much sense. He knew that they were tied to the Darkspawn, but he had killed quite a few of them in his time with the Warden and her companions. Why was the Archdemon any different? But, he knew that she would answer his question, so he did not speak. He looked to her, trying to ascertain what exactly it was that bothered her so. Was she afraid that she would fail? No, that did not seem to be the case. Freya was almost fearless. He had often told her so, and her only remark had been that it would take one to know one. She let out a frustrated sigh, as she rubbed her right temple with a stray hand. He did not think at all that she was finished with her statements, but she appeared apprehensive to follow through with it. And to encourage her forward, he spoke softly to her, his violet gaze never leaving her.

"Why is this troubling you, Kadan? I sense that that is not the end of your statements."

It was harder than she could have even imagined. How could she tell him that she was going to die? Would he even believe her? She had to fight the tears that threatened to spill down her face. She did not know if she could find the right words. And even if she found the right words, there was a small chance that he would not understand her. His knowledge of the Ferelden language was limited. So, she tried to search for words that he would know and understand. Duty. Honor. Sacrifice. Those would be the best ones to use in this situation.

After a few more pondering moments, she took a deep breath and released it. "If anyone other than a Warden kills the Archdemon, it will not die. It will simply pass into the nearest Darkspawn in the area and become reborn. It will, in essence, attempt to do the same thing to the Warden..." For a moment, she had to pause, trying to think of the best way to proceed with the explanation. His face was already showing more emotion than she had seen in him in quite some time. If it had not been such a somber occasion, she might have teased him about it. Perhaps he was afraid that she would become possessed just as a mage would if a demon tried to enter them. After all, they were all aware of the Quanari's dislike of magic.

She swallowed hard, before proceeding with the explanation "But, because the Warden is not a soulless vessel like the Darkspawn, the Warden's soul and spirit will vanquish the demon from the world, "the silence hung in the air as she paused for a moment, closing her eyes as a tear streaked its way down her face, "and take the Warden with it."

Her final words hung loosely in the air for what seemed like years. She studied his face for what must have been the millionth time. He broke eye contact with her, his eyesight grazing against the cold stone floor. "So, one of you will die." His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. He could not believe what he was hearing. Was she trying to tell him she was worried for her companions? Of course they would have insisted that they make the blow. Both were older and more experienced. They would not suggest that she be the one to do it. And he knew that they would not have decided for Alistair to do it. Not after all the trouble they went through to make him King of Ferelden. It had to be Riordan. Didn't it?

But, from the look upon her face he knew that it was not Riordan or Alistair who had been chosen to wield the final blow against the demon. A sinking feeling was filling in the bottom of his stomach. He felt like he was falling. No, that could not happen. He would not allow it. She was not meant to die this way. She was too young. It did not matter that she was a Grey Warden. She was still a woman, and he could not accept that she would have taken everything into her own hands. It was reckless. She wrung her hands together nervously, as her eyes refused to meet his. After what seemed like a small eternity, she spoke again. "I have offered to make the sacrifice." As the words passed from her lips, he closed his eyes. He suppressed every impulse in his body to break something.

She was going to die. He had always known that it might be a possibility. They would all eventually die. Some would even be bound to die in the final battle. Perhaps even he would meet his fate at the hands of the Darkspawn. But, for her to want to willingly give up her life was something he had not expected from her. He could not understand it. He had never thought something like that would be possible from her. He knew life had not been a pleasant one for her. But, life was rarely pleasant. And, she had barely begun to live! She was a little more than a child in his eyes, in regards to her age. And that was mostly from the ten year plus age difference he was sure was between them. It would be a waste of a good life, all in the name of honor and glory.

He could understand if she felt she had some sacred duty to attend to by giving up her life. Duty was always important. He had told her as much, when she asked if happiness was not important. He had told her that duty was always more important that a person's own personal happiness. And he had believed it. But that was before. Before he had come to care for her. Before she had become his Kadan. And now...he was going to lose her.

"No." he spoke harshly, his eyes meeting hers. She looked surprised, and slightly confused. And before he could continue, she had started to argue with him, as was her custom. "You can not change my mind, Sten. I am not important in the grand scheme of things. Alistair must survive to lead Ferelden. And Riordan will be needed to help make a larger force of Grey Wardens in Ferelden to prepare for the next Blight. It will cause the least amount of damage if I die. No one will mourn my passing."

He could not hear it any more. How dare she think that no one would be saddened by her passing! Everyone in their party would be saddened. Her clan, wherever they may be, would mourn her even more than they already had. And more than anything, _he_ would mourn her. He stood up from the bed and grasped her, seeing her face feel with shock at his actions. "_Parshaara! _Do not presume that your death will not effect anyone, Warden! You have no idea how people will mourn for you!"

His words confused her more than she was willing to admit. Was he speaking for himself? He had never shown such compassion for her. It was a bit unnerving. She began to wonder if he really did feel something for her and had not found it desirable to tell her so. But, it all could be him telling her what an idiot she was being, as was his custom. Her head was clouded with confusion. She chewed her bottom lip, the question passing through her lips before she even realized it "Would you mourn me?" The look upon his face at being asked such a question was enough to make her regret ever speaking it.

He released her from his powerful grasp, turning his back upon her. She took his response as a resounding no, and attempted to flee. She tried to push past him, not wanting to see him for another moment. He had broken her heart for the millionth time since they first crossed paths in Lothering, and she would not let him see her break down. She would not let him see her cry. But, his hand caught her hand and pulled her to him, wrapping his free arm around her waist to pull her as close as he possibly could. Those fierce violet eyes stared down at her, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than you could ever imagine, Kadan."

His hand released hers, as it moved to cup her face with it. A volley of emotions spread through her body as she closed her eyes, leaning into his hand. It was coarse; rough from years of constant battles and sword play. But, nothing had been more comforting to her. His massive hand stroked her face as softly as he could. Her left hand found its way to place over his, not caring anymore about hiding her feelings. She knew it now more than ever that she could not hide her feelings for him even if she tried. She was hopelessly in love with Sten, and she would not depart from the world without making her feelings known to him. It did not matter if he returned them or not. At least she would feel the weight of her secret lifted off her heart and soul.

She was about to speak, but her voice was silenced by a finger moving over her lips. It was an effective way to silence her, and she remained frozen in his grasp. He spoke once more, his violet eyes searching her face for a response to his question, "Do you remember what I told you Kadan meant?"

She nodded as he stroked her face, her eyes still closed against him. She could not open them for fear that he would disappear and she would wake up to find this was all a wonderful dream. "You told me it meant companion, or _friend_." The last word hung loosely in the air, as though it was an insult. It left an acidic taste in her mouth. His other hand moved from around her waist, cupping her other cheek loosely so that she would be forced to stare into his eyes instead of allowing them to dart to the floor as she had become accustomed to doing in his prescience. She felt the heat rising from her abdomen to her cheeks at the intimate act he had just committed.

"That is not...the true meaning of the word," his voice remained slightly above a whisper as he watched the confusion treading its way across her face. He did not know how to explain it to her in the Ferelden tongue , but he would try. "The meaning of the word in your tongue is hard to explain. But...it simply means, something one values highly. At that moment in time, the word friend was...the most appropriate term to use." She felt her throat growing more and more dry as time passed. What exactly was he trying to tell her? He was admitting that he cared for her. That much was obvious, even if she had doubted it until this moment. But just how deep did the handsome Qunari's feelings run? Did he...love her? She could only hope that that was the case, but it would be useless to hope for the impossible.

"Is that word no longer...appropriate?" She felt herself saying, her eyes still slightly closed in a dizzy haze of emotions and longing. She tried not to hope that he would say something incredibly romantic. Sten did not seem like the romantic type, but it would be nice to hear something sweet echo from his lips. "No. Just the definition I gave to you." Her heart skipped a beat, as he leaned forward slightly, leaning close to her right ear, the heat from his breath making her dizzy. "In regards to you, the word Kadan means where the heart lies."

Had she heard him right? Did he just say that she had his heart? Was that what he was implying? No, that couldn't be possible. Who was this man standing before her, holding onto her so tightly? This could not be Sten. This all had to be a fantasy. Any moment she would awake from the dream and find herself alone. Everything was becoming fuzzy as her emotions flooded her brain. She couldn't think straight. Desire and longing filled her and she felt breathless. She had never thought that a man would be able to almost literally take her breath away simply by being close to her. It was a battle to simply keep her hormones in control. When his head turned, brushing a soft kiss on the tip of her elven ears, she lost all control of herself. Her longing had become too great, and she could no longer resist the temptation, consequences be damned.

Her head turned, freeing itself from his strong grasp as her lips met with his in a feverish kiss. Her arms had found there way around his neck, her hands playing in his glorious white braids. She gasped slightly when she felt his arms pulling her back into his grasp, their bodies pressed tightly against each other. His mouth possessed hers, quickly becoming the pursuer rather than the pursued. His tongue teased her upper lip, causing a low groan to echo from her lips as he gained entrance into her mouth. Their tongues danced as their kissing grew more fierce by the moment.

He broke away from her, his breathing shallow as he tried to recover. He had lost himself in her embrace, and he knew that he shouldn't. He did care very deeply for his Kadan. He did not know the right word for his feelings, at least not one that she would understand. The word Kadan would have to be enough for her. She looked up at him, confusing shadowing her pale features. "Did I do something wrong?" He shook his head, his hands still resting comfortably on her tiny waist. "No, Kadan. It is...hard to explain. I am torn. I know I cannot lose myself in you. I will...I will hurt you."

The meaning behind his words were not quite clear. She had heard him speak of the Quanari's mating rituals in the past as being dangerous when Morrigan had joked about lying with him. She could remember her anger at the proposition, long before she had realized that her feelings for Sten ran deep. It had infuriated her even further when he had agreed to it. Even if he assured her later that he had been "joking" about it.

Her doe-eyes looked up at him, wondering if the mating rituals were truly as dangerous as he had suggested. She felt a blush forming across her cheeks as she placed a hand upon his cheek, looking deep into his eyes, "And I will be even more hurt if we do not take comfort in each other for this night. For this one night is all I have left, Sten. Soon, I will be gone. This is our last chance to be alone together. Please do not refuse our only chance at happiness; my only chance at true peace."

Sten swallowed hard as he wiped away a tear, knowing that she was right. She wouldn't change her mind about dying just because he had confessed his feelings for her. She was honor bound to do what was right. She had seen too much injustice in the world, and she had a chance to save it. She had a chance to make things right, and many of her elven kin would tell stories of her for the rest of time. The elves would finally have the hero they had longed for. And he would forever worship her memory in the back of his mind. It was her duty. Her blood was already tainted by the Darkspawn. And from what he had overheard from her conversations with Alistair, the taint would eventually claim her body and she would die. He did not blame her for wishing to die in battle rather than turning into a ghoul.

"You are not afraid, my Kadan?"

She shook her head, smiling brightly at him. In truth, she was slightly afraid of what exactly he would do. She was innocent, and she was sure that he knew this. How could he not? Freya had never lain with a man, whether he was Elven, Human, Dwarven or Qunari. Zevran had tried to weasel his way into her bed countless times at camp and she had politely denied him every time. She had always wanted to save herself for someone that she loved. It had been hard, almost impossible, to do so over the course of her life.

But, it was the one thing that she had promised her adoptive mother, Ashalle, all those years ago when she had first asked about being with a man. She was told something that Ashalle had even told Freya's mother, or so she was told. "Save yourself for the one your heart sings for, da'len, and you will know true happiness." the woman's words echoed in her mind as a small smirk formed across her face. "I am not afraid of pain, Sten. I have suffered just as any other who walks this world. No, I will welcome the pain. It is the only true reminder that I am alive. When the day comes that I no longer feel the pain, I will know I have left this world for good."

Her words made complete sense to him, even if they were as depressing as anything that had left her lips that night. She sought comfort in him, and he knew he would not deny her. For, in truth, he wanted her. He needed her. It had been quite a long time since he had mated with a woman. And it had never meant anything to him before. It was always something to take off the edge, and suppress the urges. This would be quite different. He wished more than anything that he could be gentle with her, like she deserved. But, it was not in his nature to be gentle, and she would know that. But, did he really want to take her innocence away because she asked?

After countless moments, he had made his decision, and his lips sought hers possessively once more. She would likely hate him for the pain he would cause her this night, but it was what they both needed. It was what they both desired. He hungered for the fair elf, and he would savor her. His tongue gained passage between her lips easily this time, as he pulled her against his chest, the cloth of his undershirt rubbing against her. He was thankful he had discarded his armor in the room he was sleeping in, or he would have had to fuss with all the buckles upon it.

He deepened the kiss and felt a satisfaction in hearing her echo a muffled moan. And she felt the same happiness as her girlish fantasies had the chance to come true. He stood inches away from the bed, backing up slowly to it before sitting down on the edge. He pulled her down into his lap, his right hand resting on the small of her back. It was beginning to get difficult to contain his desires. He wanted it to last for her. He wanted it to be as special as she deserved, but his desires for his tiny elf was growing quickly.

His hand found its into those glorious strands of blonde hair, pulling on it. The roughness of the gesture did not scare her. No, she reveled in it. She had never really thought she would be the type to enjoy a little pain. But, it did not exactly surprise her. Pain was, after all, all she was really accustomed to. She enjoyed the feeling of his hands mangled in her hair; his lips upon her jaw, kissing his way down to her throat. He nipped at it, and she shuttered, feeling a warmth spreading rapidly over her body. His teeth sank into her neck, sucking and nipping at it fiercely. It was wonderful, and her guttural moan encouraged his attentions. When he tasted blood he ceased, licking the wound and sealing it with a kiss. His fierce violet eyes bared into hers asserting his claim on his frail

"You are mine, Kadan."

"Always, _a'mael_."

The beautiful word that echoed from her lips was foreign to him, and yet he knew it had to be elvish. The way it rolled off her tongue was enchanting, and almost mystical. She must have noticed the questioning look that formed upon her face, because she smiled at him, placing a kiss upon his forehead before she spoke with her voice barely above a whisper. "It means beloved in Elven." He did not know what the word beloved meant, but he had a feeling it was close to the same meaning as Kadan.

Their lips met once more, hungry for each other as his hands found their way to her shoulders. The dress she wore was lovely, but he longed to discard it from her person and feast his eyes on what laid beneath it. His hands fussed with the corset of her dress for a few moments before he grew angry with it and tore the back of the dress. She removed her lips from his for a moment, a blush forming across her face. Lady Isolde would wonder how the dress had been ripped, as she was sure that she had wanted it back. It would be an embarrassing conversation to have.

But the more embarrassing concept running through her mind was that Sten was about to see her as naked as the day she was born. He pulled the shoulders of the dress down her arms, the fabric teasing her already sensitive nipples as he pulled the sleeves off of her arms, leaving her torso exposed. He took in every inch of her slender pale body, his eyes resting on her breast with much interest. They were quite large. Bigger than he had imagined possible for someone so small. His right hand moved from her shoulder, capturing her right breast in his hand. She twitched at the contact, but merely from not being used to the invasion of a foreign hand upon her person. The insatiable urge to taste them bellowed up from inside of him. His mouth moved towards her left breast, capturing a taut pink nipple between his teeth.

She felt her body arching back involuntary, knowing it must be her body's way of telling her it felt nice. And indeed it did, for as his tongue flicked across the nipple she let out a small cry that sounded much like a whimper. His right hand moved to the other nipple, running his fingers over it. The pleasure and pain coursed through her body, setting her body afire. She didn't know how much longer she could take the ministrations upon her person before she would burst. And yet, she hungered for more. Her hand found it's way to the back of his head, pressing against it as she pulled on one of his white braids, her fingernails scrapping against his scalp. She felt he must have enjoyed the scratching, because his teasing of her nipples increased, causing her to yelp in pain and pleasure.

She felt an all too familiar wetness forming between her thighs, knowing this was just a sign of desire. She had felt it before, when the occasional dirty thought passed through her mind. But, it had always been squashed, never allowing herself to explore the sensations. And this was no fantasy she dreamed up to keep her company in the dead of night. It was all too real and the feelings the Qunari developed within her were almost more than she could take.

She had known he would be rough with her. Sten was a rough person in general .But, she had not expected that she would enjoy it as much as she was. And that simple fact pleased Sten. The more she whimpered and moaned, the more he wanted to devour her. He removed his mouth from her breast, kissing his way up her neck towards her ear, nibbling on the lobe. Her eyelids felt heavy as her head flipped back, feeling his tongue licking at the flesh beneath her ear.

Her hands were tangled once more in his braids, wondering to herself what it would feel like if his hair was free of them, hanging loose upon his broad shoulders. She felt him pull her tight against his body once more, her breasts brushing against his chest, as his mouth continued to suckle on her neck. He leaned up, releasing her neck from his mouth as his whispered into her ear, "I want to taste you, Kadan." Her eyes flew open as she looked down at him. Taste her? What in the hell did he mean by that? His tongue had been practically all over her torso. He knew what she tasted like.

He noticed her surprise and his lips turned into a devilish smirk. Obviously, she was even more innocent than he realized. "Do you trust me?" He asked, noticing her worried expression, which disappeared as soon as he spoke. "Yes," was the simple reply as their eyes met. "Of course I do." He lifted her off the bed with him as he stood, watching her legs instinctively wrap their way around his back as he held her by her bottom. He turned back to the bed, practically dropping her down upon it. Before she had time to react, he was hovering over her. His gigantic hands reached for her dress that had pooled itself along her waist. He pulled it off of her body, revealing her smallclothes guarding the most precious part of a woman's body.

His eyes moved to her, waiting for a signal to continue. She nodded slightly, not trusting her voice to sound solid and unwavering. She wanted to know what he was planning, even though her nerves were bubbling inside of her. But, she did trust him, and that was all that mattered at the moment. As he slid the garment from around her waist, he tossed it aside. He could sense her apprehension, but he knew it would disappear as soon as he touched her again. Especially because he could now fully smell her desire and it was almost too intoxicating. A part of him wished she had agreed to sleep with the elf, or even that fool Alistair. At least then she wouldn't act like a meek little church mouse, regardless of her apparent desire for him.

But the more predatory part of him was loving it. He was the first she had allowed to touch her body. Not that he would have taken 'No' for an answer if his feelings did not interfere with his primal instincts. Because she was precious to him, the person who held his heart in her very hands, he would not hurt her. At least not intentionally. He took her in, studying her body with a keen interest. She was more beautiful than he could have imagined. His original impression of her body was that she was tiny and frail, and that had always been unattractive to him. He had been wrong. She had quite a few curves to her dainty figure, especially her wide hips. He had never known women of other races could look so lovely in the glow of the fire behind him. This only made his hunger for her grow, as he leaned down, placing a kiss upon her stomach.

His eyes gazed over her mound, admiring the curled blonde hair that covered it. A predatory and lustful growl surfacing from his throat as he moved towards her feet, pushing her legs apart as gently as he could. His head leaned down, taking in her scent and he reveled in it. An insatiable hunger filled his body and his hands reached up to hold her hips in place, knowing that once he started her hips would try to buck and move away, and he would not have that. That only made it harder for him to enjoy how she tasted.

And once he had a tight grip upon her, he let his tongue flick softly across the sensitive numb of flesh. He heard her gasp, watching her facial expressions with delight. She had enjoyed it, of that he had no doubt. But, it confused her, and he would know that she would grow used to the sensation with time. He let his tongue lap against her, enjoying the taste of her. She squirmed, her fingers finding their way to his head, scrapping her fingernails over his scalp. His tongue found her entrance, flicking at it at first. He heard her moan, encouraging him to continue his actions. He did for several moments, lapping at her as thought he was drinking the most delicious liquid in the world. Once he had had his fill, he removed his tongue, licking the taste of her off his lips. Looking down into her eyes, he showed her his finger, placing it down at her entrance, feeling her shift away from him. He held her hip down, glaring down at her. "This will not be very comfortable at first, but it is necessary. I promise you. "

She realized that he was talking about inserting one of his massive fingers into her body. She had never done such a thing, though she knew some women found it pleasurable to play with themselves. She had never been curious about it, for she had always assumed her lover would one day show her how. And if she ever felt the urge afterwards, than she would do so. She smiled at him, not showing a drop of fear on her face. No, he knew she was eager to see just what he was going to do with that finger. He pressed the finger through her entrance, feeling her body flinch slightly. He continued only after he felt her body relax, moving the finger in and out of her. He leaned down, his breath tickling against her ear as he whispered, "This is how it will feel when I am inside you. Except I will be larger."

Her eyes widened, a blush forming on her already heated face. She felt her toes curl and her body arch against his hand. He inserted another finger, watching her hips buck against him as his thumb flicked her nub. His tongue also flicked across it a moment later, causing a greater response from his elven beauty. He ventured in deeper, watching her breath becoming more and more heated by the minute. She was enjoying it, but she was embarrassed to vocalize it. He could see her biting upon her bottom lip, suppressing the urge to scream. She was getting close, that much he could tell, for her voice finally rang out in his ears. "Oh, Sten! Please don't stop!"

She whimpered when he sat up, watching him do just what she had begged him not to. The attentions of his fingers and tongue had felt quite nice, so why had he stopped? He started pulling off his undershirt and pushing the pants off, hearing them fall to the floor behind him. His small clothes had been discarded with them shortly after, and he looked down upon her. She looked confused, not know what to expect. He whispered gruffly to her, "You are ready, Kadan. I could not send you over the edge or you would grow tense and the uncomfortable feeling would return." She nodded, knowing that he meant that it was now time for her to lose her innocence.

He picked her up, pulling her back into his lap as he shifted to lay down upon the bed. He would allow her to ride atop of him, for it would be the safest way for her. If he tried to lay upon her, he might injure her, and he would not have that. He left her sitting up on his thighs, watching as her eyes scanned across his naked body. His broad shoulders gave way to a muscled and very masculine chest. She ran her fingers across his abs, enjoying the hardened feeling of them. She traced over a few battle scars, many Wynne and Morrigan had healed themselves. He was as masculine a man as she had ever met, and she revealed in his beauty.

She stared down at his manhood with interest. It was...large. She had seen a man's private area once before. And, that had been upon a man who attempted to take her virtue from her and he had not survived the encounter. Thinking back on it, his had been very...small. Was it just that the Qunari's were bigger because of their massive size, or was the man unusually small for a human male? She would never know the difference. Nor did she truly care to know.

There was only one thing that was bothering her. She could not quite understand how his member was going to fit inside of her. Maybe…he was too large. The girth and length of it was enough to startle her as it stood at attention. "What now?" she urged, not quite knowing what to do. She knew that it involved somehow inserting his shaft inside her sex just as he had with his fingers. But how that was exactly going to happen was still a bit of a mystery. Would her body stretch to accept him? It must, for there was no other way around it.

"Now...you will slide yourself onto me."

She did not understand. She had always been told that man rode atop his woman. Not the other way around. Because if the woman rode the man, she was a whore and Freya did not wish that label upon her for anything. A blush forming across her cheeks showed him once more how truly innocent his elven Kadan truly was. "I was told...that it was not proper for a woman to ride a man, Sten." He sat up, his hands resting upon her cheeks as he forced her to look at him. "This is the safest way, Kadan. If I ride you, I will hurt you. And you will not enjoy it. That I can promise you. This position will offer you the best comfort as you will be the one controlling how deep I go. Now is not the time to lecture me on your country's, or your people's, mating rituals. "

She felt herself swallow, knowing that he was right. After all, he had already proven he was doing all of this for her comfort. If he did not care he would have taken her already. She sighed, nodding her head as she leaned in to kiss him softly upon the lips. She watched as he leaned back against the bed, waiting on her. She could tell it was taking every ounce of his control not to force himself upon her, and she was thankful for it. She was now beginning to realize why he had suggested that sex with a Qunari would be dangerous. For one, they were massive creatures that had trouble controlling their sexual desires. And for another, they did indeed enjoy it rough. Just not as rough as the picture Sten had painted for Morrigan with his words.

She looked down at his bulging rod once more, before taking a deep breath. He sat up slightly as she began to move. He placed both of his hands on her hips, guiding her to him. She would have to be the one to take him in. He would not do it for her, and she knew that. She had complete control over the situation, and she felt slightly empowered because of it. Their eyes met, as he pressed his lips against her, taking possession of them once more. This would serve as a distraction for the pain she would feel and she welcomed it. Her left arm hung loosely around his neck as her right moved to grasp at his manhood, which she felt twitch in her grasp. She found her entrance, bracing herself for what she feared would be massive amounts of pain as she slid down onto the tip of his loins every so slowly.

She felt her sex contracting, allowing him entrance into unexplored territory. This Qunari would conquer yet another foreign land, and she smirked at the thought. Feeling the pain rubbing against her body, she decided that slowly might not be the best tacit. It was just prolonging the pain. And so, as her tongue danced with his, she forced him deeper into her. She felt something pop and the pain caused her to bite down upon his lip. But, surprisingly, the pain passed quickly, and the strangest sensation began to envelope her. It was warm, and felt much like it did when he had held his fingers inside of her. But this was far better.

She pulled away from his mouth, their eyes meeting once more as she felt her hips grinding against him. Instinct would tell her what to do next, and it would be best to let her figure it out. He laid back, and watched his little elf. It was a pleasurable sight to gaze upon as she moved on him, on some greater level of instinct than he would have suspected possible. It was hard to believe that this was her first time as her breast bounced against her pale skin. He was relieved to see the pain had passed, though he had no doubt that it still caused her quite a bit of discomfort. After all, the elven women had not been built in the same capacity as the Qunari. The laws of nature would deem their union almost impossible.

But as her hips found a comfortable rhythm, he could care less about the laws of nature. Nature be damned, he thought to himself as he found himself thrusting up into her, matching her pace and speed. He had never felt more complete. He had never felt more alive. She felt the same feeling, her fingers contentiously raking down his chest as his gripped her bottom, treating her in the same fashion. As she chewed on her bottom lip once more, he realized for the first time how irritating he found that habit. He wanted to hear her scream his name. He needed for her to vocalize her pleasure. His hand reached for the tendrils of her blonde mane, pulling harshly on it, forcing her head back. "I want to hear you scream, Kadan. Scream for me. Scream it as loud as you can. Do not worry your bottom lip a moment longer."

Just as those words seeped from his lips, she felt the most pleasurable rush sweeping over her body, forcing her to scream out his name as her nails raked down his torso. "STEN!" She screamed as she climaxed upon him, her hips bucking once more as he followed shortly after. She collapsed upon him, her hair casting a wave over his body. Her breathing was heavy, as his arms enveloped his lover, revealing in her strength and prowess. If she had the time to learn, she would have been a great lover, as he suspected her sexual appetite was close to his. However, for a moment the thought was passed from his mind as he had not felt her move. He was worried he might have hurt her, as her eyes remained closed.

He pulled her off of him, laying her down on the bed beside her, brushing the loose strands away from her eyes. The worry would not leave his face as he waited for her to respond to his touch. After countless moments, he grew anxious. "Freya?" He spoke softly, using her given name for the first time. This caused her eyes to jerk open from sheer shock. "What did you just say?" She could not believe her ears as the closest thing she had ever seen to a smile sparkled across his handsome face. "I said your name. Or at least, the one that Alistair and the others call you. Should I not have?"

She shook her head, her left hand lazily reaching up to cup his cheek, "It's the most beautiful word you have ever spoken to me. Please...say it again." He acquiesced to her request, saying her name once more before placing a soft kiss upon her forehead. She felt a few tears trailing down her cheek. It was the closest thing she would ever get to a confession of love from Sten. The word Kadan had been beautiful, but the sound of her name falling from his lips was far more wonderful. She knew now that she could go into her battle with the Archdemon in utter peace. She would find her Uthenara just as her ancestors had. She closed her eyes, feeling a wave of pure exhaustion sweeping over her body.

It was not long before Sten noticed she had fallen asleep in his embrace. He has suspected as much, as she had collapsed upon him shortly after their mating from sheer exhaustion, and perhaps a tiny bit of stress. He pulled the blankets over her, not daring to leave her side at the moment. He was afraid that he might have hurt her, and he did not want to leave her alone if he had. He would eventually have to make his way back down to the others. And there would be questions, especially when they noticed the black-and-blue bite mark upon her neck. But he would deal with that later.

As for now, he would savor the remaining moments he had with his Kadan, knowing that she was set on her mission; her duty; her sacrifice. He studied his elf for what seemed like hours, memorizing every piece of her body to commit to his memory before he finally left her side once he was convinced that all was well. He quickly dressed in his underclothes before making his way back down into the hall to join the others. Tomorrow would be the beginning of a long march, and he would need his rest just as she. Tomorrow would be the beginning of the end. His heart felt heavy as he laid down upon his bedroll, closing his eyes and drifting off into a restless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's notes: So, I am terribly sorry I left you all waiting. With the release of DA:2, my urge to write this story has returned and the chapters should come quicker than this last incredibly long gap. Hope you enjoy reading and thank you for all the reviews!_

Chapter 2: The Morning After

Freya awoke the next morning, reaching out for Sten only to find that he was not there. She felt saddened by this small fact, knowing that he must have left her in the middle of the night and made his way back downstairs to her other companions. But, the smile could not be removed from her face. She sat up, looking down to study her body, finding that her neck was not the only thing that was bruised. Her hips were colored a deep purple and ached quite horribly. She placed her hands upon the massive marks, knowing they had been made by his hands holding her down. Just thinking about the night before sent a warmth through her body. It had not been quite what she had imagined, but she wouldn't change it for anything. Because this was far better than any daydream or fantasy she had experienced in her short life. She had experienced a loving moment with the only person she had ever really loved. It was the most wonderful feeling. But, now was the time to move on and face her destiny. Normally, she would be terrified of the unknown and what was to come. But, she knew that no matter what happened, she would accomplish her mission and the world would be safe. Or she would die trying. And if the legends were true, she would do both.

A sharp knock drew her attention towards the door, hearing Isolde's voice passing through the door, "My lady Warden, are you awake?" Freya cried out, telling her that she was indeed. Isolde requested admittance into the room, and Freya granted it. The door swung open to reveal the Arl's wife and an elven servant. "My lady, I thought you might require some assistance this morning." Freya's brow furrowed at Isolde's question, knowing that that was the reason why the elven woman was following behind her. She took a deep breath, trying not to let her annoyance at the woman's ignorance anger her. "I am perfectly capable of dressing myself, Lady Isolde. I have been doing so for twenty-one years, and I will continue to do so until my last breath leaves my body."

Isolde's face turned a bright red, looking down at the floor. She looked up, nodding slowly in an attempt to apologize, "Forgive me, my lady, but I did not bring Raina to help dress you. There are rumors floating through the castle. And Raina is an accomplished herbalist specializing in...womanly health." Freya's face twisted in shock at first, and then into three shades of crimson as she looked down at the floor. They knew about her and Sten. Had someone heard her? How could they not? She had screamed and moaned so loud her voice had become hoarse, regardless of the constant chewing on her bottom lip. And Sten would not have told a soul what went on the night before. Embarrassment was the first feeling that ran through her body. And then there was the anger. She had never been one to participate in gossip, and it was even worse when it involved her. Her eyes did not meet the Arlessa's as she looked towards the ground , "Thank you for your concern, Arlessa, but I am fine. Really."

"Please, my lady, I would feel better if you allowed Raina to examine you," Freya's eyes narrowed, wondering why the Arlessa appeared this worried. Did they assume...? Anger shook through her body as she balled her fists tightly, looking at the woman dead in the eyes . "You think he forced himself on me, don't you?" That had to be the reason the Arlessa appeared so concerned. Why else would Lady Isolde insist on having someone check her over? They wanted proof for their suspensions. Whoever had started this would end up meeting the end of her bow. That she could promise.

Isolde tried to speak but Freya stopped her, pulling the wolf-skin blanket tighter around her body as she stood up. "I do not have time for this nonsense, _My Lady. _I have a battle to prepare for. Sten did NOT violate me in any way. It was an intimate and loving moment between two people on the eve of battle. Now, GET OUT!" The elf ran for the door, not attempting to question Freya. Isolde looked terrified, knowing that Freya's bow was just inches away from her hands. It would not be hard for her to reach over and put an arrow through the Arlessa's head or heart. And it was hard for her not to convince herself that it was not a good idea.

Isolde stood her ground, as Freya noticed the anger growing in her eyes. "Do you have any idea who you are talking to, _elf? _I will not stand for this. I was only concerned for your health. You have no right to speak to me this way." Freya leaned down, collecting Isolde's blue dress that was now in pieces upon the floor. She stared at it for a moment, before looking back at the woman, throwing it at her. "You know, I felt regret when Sten tore this from my body in the heat of passion. But, after this I feel no remorse for the tattered dress of a judgmental, racist bitch. You do not deserve my remorse or respect. Now, for a second time, GET OUT!" Freya shouted, her finger pointing towards the door. Isolde did not argue with her walking towards the door, before turning back to face Freya with her anger burning quite visibly, "You will not be welcome here again, Warden. That I can promise you." Freya rolled her eyes, watching the woman saunter out of the room with her head held high. It did not matter if Isolde forbid her from returning to Redcliffe. She would not even return from her battle with the Archdemon. It was a rather insignificant argument to make.

Freya moved towards the chest she had placed her emerald colored drake-skin leather armor that Wade the Master Armor-Smith had made her into the night before, opening it easily. Her anger had not ceased, but taking it out on Lady Isolde had not given her much comfort either. It had just been hard not to become angered by the assumptions that were made about Sten. He was not an animal. He had a heart and a soul. And more importantly, the idea that he would have came into her room in the middle of the night and raped her was absurd. Freya moved a piece of her blonde hair away from her eyes as she pulled her armor out of the trunk, placing it on the bed beside her. It was the first time that she had noticed that she was not alone in the room. She stood there baring it all, thankful that it was only Wynne. If it had been anyone else, she might have flung one of her daggers towards the door. "Child, are you well? I heard the screaming from down the hall. I was coming to check on you and saw Lady Isolde running towards Arl Eamon's room."

She narrowed her eyes, before turning back towards the bed, feeling her anger begin to cease for the first time since she had discovered the rumors floating around about her. Wynne truly was coming to check on her, not to spread idle gossip throughout the castle. Wynne was one of the few people in her party that she actually trusted completely. Besides Sten. And maybe Alistair. That still did not end the irritation she felt. Sten did not deserve this. "So you heard the rumors as well, Wynne? The evil Qunari bastard sneaked into my room in the dead of night and forced himself upon me. Tell me you are not blind enough to believe something like that was true." Wynne shook her head as she stepped towards Freya, placing a small hand on her shoulder. "I know that he would never do such a thing, Freya. Especially not to you."

Freya's eyes widened, looking up at the older woman who was now smiling at her. "Oh, don't act so surprised, child! I've watched you two play this game of cat and mouse all year. And if I am truly the only one who has noticed than I do not know what to tell you." Freya could not suppress the grin that spread across her face. As well as the crimson blush that was dancing it's way across her cheeks. Freya turned away from the woman, who had become much like a second mother to her. Her own mother had abandoned her when she was very young. She had no memory of her. The closet thing she had to a mother before Wynne was the elf Ashalle who helped look after her as a child. "What are you talking about?"

"Freya, he has cared for you for quite a while now. Since you returned his sword to him in fact. He has been fighting himself and his feelings. He does everything he can to be near you, even if he is subtle about it. He protects you from anything or anyone that could bring you harm. He defends you when the others are questioning your orders. And the way he watches you when you aren't looking is all the proof I needed of his underlying affections." She truly had not noticed before their night together anything like what Wynne was describing. She had always assumed that he stuck next to her and did his job because he was trying to prove his loyalty and to keep his promise in helping her to end the Blight. She had never once thought it might be because he wanted to keep her safe and close by.

As Freya leaned down to pick up her leather chest piece Wynne noticed for the first time the bruising on hips. It was hard not to notice, as the slender elves waist was almost covered completely. She reached out, a finger brushing against the bone. Freya winced, moving away from her. "I can heal that for you, if you like." Freya shook her head, finishing the last tie on her chest piece, "No, I don't need it. It's just a little sore. I've had worse bruises than these. Most of which you healed. But, thank you Wynne." She smiled at the older woman who could only nod her head as she turned to leave the room with a smirk on her face. The wounds made in pleasure were an entirely different story than those made from a Darkspawn. And with Freya's history for being stubborn, it did not surprise her that she refused to allow Wynne to heal her.

Wynne quietly left the room as Freya finished pulling up the skirt of her armor, wincing slightly as it brushed over her hips. But, it was a good pain. It made everything real. It meant that it had really happened. Besides, it was a prideful feeling that only she would know just how they had got there. Besides Sten, of course. She didn't think Wynne would spread around the injuries she saw, and Isolde had not seen anything. It was her dirty little secret, and she reveled in it. She pulled her gloves up over her hands, tying them at her elbows, hoping that there would not be any more interruptions while she was dressing. This would be the last few moments she had to herself, and she wanted to enjoy them in peace. She finished pulling her boots onto her feet, brushing a clod of dirt off of her left heel.

After she finished dressing, she sheathed her two daggers, Fang and The Rose's Thorn, along with her bow, Falcon'Din's Reach, making sure everything was tightly secured behind her back. She moved to tie her hair back up into it's elaborate half updo with a braided bun hairstyle and pin it up with the yellow pins her mother had left for her. However, Freya did not feel the need to stress herself with how long it would take to place her hair back up. So, she decided to just pull it back into a ponytail to keep out of her eyes. She did not feel the need to make anything more complicated than it had to be. She figured it must be from her impending departure from the world. Or she just didn't care that much about it.

She turned, making her way towards the door and out into the hall. She would have to find Alistair and Riordan and figure out how long it would be before they departed for Denerim. She didn't imagine she had very long at all, as she shuffled down the hallway in search of her companions.

Sten had had enough. The accusing glances he received from almost everyone he came across in Redcliffe Castle was enough to make him want to rip something to pieces. Preferably one of the tiny humans sauntering off in the opposite direction every time they passed him by. He was used to the people of Ferelden gawking at him, but this was different. They looked at him as though he had committed an immoral sin and he could never be redeemed from it. He did not really know what was going on, but he knew that it was directed at him. He found his way out into the courtyard, away from the prying eyes of the people in the castle. He came upon Dante, the Mabari, who wagged his stub tail as soon as he saw him. Sten patted the dog on the head and walked past him. The dog issued a small whimper as he followed behind. The Mabari was quite attached to the Qunari. Almost as much as he was to Freya. He knew that the dog would follow him, and he did not mind his company. He would not pester him as many of the others would. Like Freya would have.

Not that he minded her pestering. It was endearing when she did so, as he knew she was only trying to figure him out. And that's why he continued to be as non-conversational as he possibly could. Maybe it was so that she would keep coming back. He did not know, but he did not mind it from her. At least not as much as he suggested that he did. Dawn was slowly starting to spread over the castle and the small city that lay below it. He made his way to the windmill, a place the oddly gave him quite a bit of comfort. Perhaps it was the water that ran below it that reminded him of home; a home that he may never return to. He may very well die in the battle.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he remembered his conversation with Freya. He stopped cold as he neared the windmill, the waters of Lake Calenhad flowing many feet below him. The reality of the situation was suddenly hitting him harder than it had the night before. He was going to lose her. He had just discovered that she shared in his affections. And now, she would be gone within a matter of days. He knew he should have resisted her charms and refused her wishes. He knew it would come back to haunt him after she was gone. The memory of her kisses alone would torture him into an early grave. The gorgeous elf was nothing but a siren, beckoning him to his death against the shores while wrapped in her warm and loving arms. And he could not have resisted her even if he had wanted to. She was too beautiful, too strong-willed, and far too cleaver for her own good. And he had fallen into her arms and into her bed quicker than any other fool in love.

But, he knew he would never want take it all back. What they had done in the dark of the night in Redcliffe Castle would never be erased from his memory. He could always find her in the recesses of his mind. He would always find her waiting there for him. Even after she was gone from the world of men and demons. The thoughts that tortured his mind haunted him. When did he become this man? When did he let his emotions get the better of him? He was Qunari. They were fearless, proud creatures who lived to serve the Qun and spread it's message over the land. He was also a solider of the Beresaad, and that was what came first. At least it did until the enticing elf vixen and her swaying hips came into his life.

He wanted to hit something. He wanted to break something. Hell, he even contemplated ripping off the heads of a few of the onlookers who ran screaming away as his fist landed against the rock wall beside him. What was it about her? She was no Qunari. She was small, fragile, and pale. He had never thought he would fall for any woman; let alone a Bas. Most Qunari males never even picked mates. They would mate with a woman to reproduce, as was necessary. But they would not stay with one woman. And that was all he wanted to do. He had never felt so lost and out of control in his life. Even after he had lost Asala was no comparison to the confusion that was running through him.

And the most important thing was that he was thinking about stopping her from completing her duty in order to satisfy his own selfish needs. There was more than just his feelings at stake. The Archdemon had to be slain. There was absolutely no way around that. And yet, his mind had been tossing around all kinds of foolish notions since she had told him her plans to sacrifice herself. He wanted to save her. He wanted to keep her safe. And more than anything, he felt connected to her and wanted nothing more than to live out the remainder of his days with her. It no longer mattered if he returned home. He could return with her to her clan and live in the forests hunting for the rest of his days. He would become a _Tal'Vashoth_ of all things if it meant that he could stay with her forever. That thought made him cringe, wishing there was something he could do to erase her from him completely.

He didn't have a whole lot of time to contemplate the possibilities before he felt a hand on his arm. He knew instantly who it was just by the touch of her skin against his. "You're bleeding." The small voice spoke from behind him, as he turned to see his heart's desire standing before him. She looked radiant in the morning sunshine as the sun danced in her hair. It did not take him long to notice that she had not tied her hair back up in it's design. It was instead tied at the nape of her neck, and left the curls to fall down her back. Her leather armor had never hugged her body more. Or maybe it was just that he was noticing her figure more. He could not tell, but he knew that he enjoyed the sight before him.

The affect of her stopped his gaze cold as she touched his hand, the blood from an open gash on his knuckles running down his hand tickling at his fingers. He had been too distracted to notice that he was injured from bashing his hand against the red rock cliff beside him. While her hands rubbed over the wound, his eyes focused on her neck. The bruising of his mark still colored her alabaster skin and he was drawn to the formation of a scar in the center of the discoloration. The fingers of his free hand brushed over the bruise lightly, watching as her eyes darted up to stare at him.

"And you are bruised. Both of which are my fault." He noticed the frown that spread over her face as her free hand hovered over his for moment before he released her neck. She then replaced her hand where his had been, her eyes focusing back down to the ground. Perhaps she had forgotten about the mark. Or perhaps she was embarrassed and she did not want to remember it. Perhaps she did not want to remember anything from their rendezvous. He watched as she pulled a bandage from her pack, wrapping it tightly around the wound to stop the bleeding. It would not do the job as quickly as magic would but she knew that his disdain for magic had not changed and the wound needed to be covered quickly.

"Thank you, Kadan, " he whispered, sending vivid chills down her spine. But it was not the warm feeling that he usually created in her loins. The word that fell from his lips sounded acidic and icy. She felt a small lump forming in her throat. She could only nod, watching as he turned to walk away from her. She had wanted to talk to him about the rumors floating around the castle, but he obviously didn't. He was angry and she did not blame him. He would not have wounded himself if he was not angry about something. And she could not shake the feeling that it had something to do with her and the events of the previous night. As he walked back up the pathway towards the castle, she was frozen in place watching him leave. She felt the urge to follow him, but she let the feeling die out on its own. He wanted to be alone, and she would allow him to be. No matter how much she wanted the exact opposite for herself.

She tried to stop the feeling of emptiness that suddenly enveloped her body. She did not want to let him walk away, and yet she knew she had to. Perhaps nothing really had changed between them. Perhaps she had been fooling herself into believing that he loved her. Perhaps he was regretting his decision to lie with her. There weren't any other reasons than she could think of why the Qunari would not want to be around her at the present. Whatever the reason was did not matter. All that mattered was that she felt like she was falling. It felt like her heart was collapsing under immense pressure and she did not know if she could withstand the pain.

She heard a small whimper at her feet and a nudge against her hand. In moments, she looked down to see Dante at her feet. She had not noticed him before, and she felt a smile creeping across her face. She dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around the beast. He whimpered again, trying to comfort his master as she held back the tears. Why did the Qunari envelope such emotions in her? She had never had someone shake her to the core as he did. She had never had anyone make her feel weak and defenseless just by a single glance. It was as thought when he looked at her, he saw all of her faults and shortcomings and knew them by heart. That feeling alone was enough to encourage her to produce more barriers around her breaking heart. She would not be so easily defeated.

She inhaled, trying to calm herself. It did not matter how he felt. She had told him how she felt. And, if he rejected her than she would not have to suffer through the pain of a broken heart for very long. She would not let him break her. No one had ever succeeded in that before, even though many had attempted it. She relaxed, forcing back her emotional outburst down into her chest. She had more pressing matters to attend to than whether or not Sten was regretting their night together. She stood, making her way slowly back up the red dirt path towards the castle with the Mabari slinking behind her. In an hours time they would leave for Denerim. Her fate was slinking closer and closer with every passing moment. She would fight and she would die like a warrior.


End file.
